Knock Knock Whos There

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Knock Knock Whos There Page 21

by James Hadley Chase


  Later, as he was dozing off, she said, “They’ll never find us, will

  they?”

  What was the use, after warning her, in telling her they could

  never escape? .What was the use of telling her they were buying

  time? But he couldn’t lie to her. In silence, he turned his hand to grip

  hers.

  He felt her shiver and he knew she had got the message.

  “Love me,” she said, pulling him on to her. “Make me forget.”

  The day drifted by. They went down to the restaurant for lunch.

  They returned to their room and watched a ball game on T.V. They

  went down to the restaurant for dinner, then returned to their room.

  They watched T.V. until after midnight.

  Johnny didn’t sleep much. He kept thinking of Massino. He was

  aware that Freda was having nightmares. Twice, she cried out, but by

  putting his hand on hers, he stilled her cries.

  Soon after 07.30, he called Sammy.

  “What’s happening?”

  “I got news,” Sammy said, his voice excited. “Mr. Joe is sure

  you’re in Havana. He said he’s kissed you good-bye.”

  Johnny’s heart gave a little jump.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I had to drive Mr. Joe and Mr. Andy up town. Mr. Joe was in a

  terrible mood: cursing and swearing. He told Mr. Andy this Mr. Luigi

  had telephoned. This gentleman said you were now in Havana and

  there was nothing more he could do. He said the money was gone.”

  A pause, then Sammy asked, “You’re not in Havana, are you, Mr.

  Johnny?”

  “Never mind where I am. Look, Sammy, check the bus station. I

  must know if the boys are still there. Will you do that?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

  “I’ll call you back. When can I get you?”

  “It’s my night off. I’ll be right here at five.”

  “I’ll call you just after five.”

  “And, Mr. Johnny, you still mean it about the six thousand bucks?

  I’m worrying about it: Cloe’s giving me no peace.”

  “You’ll get it. I told you: it’s a promise.”

  When he had hung up, he told Freda what Sammy had said. They

  looked at each other.

  “You know something, baby?” Johnny said, smiling at her. “I

  think you’ve saved us. It was your brainwave to have told them I was

  heading for Havana. I’d never have thought of it. This could be our

  break. If the locker isn’t guarded and I’ll know this evening, then we

  can get the money.”

  “Oh, God, Johnny! I prayed last night! I haven’t prayed for years.

  So what do we do?”

  “If we get the green light this evening, we hire a car and drive

  back to East City. We can do it in three hours. We’ll arrive at the bus

  station around eleven o’clock. That’s a good time. Not many people

  around and it will be dark. We get the money and we get out.

  “I can’t believe it!”

  “It depends if the bus station is being watched. If it isn’t, then we

  go.”

  “And Johnny, if they think we’re in Havana . . .” She paused to

  look at him. “Then no one will come knocking on our door.”

  “That’s it, baby.” He pulled her close to him. “No one will come

  knocking on our door.”

  As Sammy came out of the elevator; heading for Massino’s

  office, Andy appeared. He stared at Sammy’s grey, sweating face.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Sammy ducked his head in a servile bow.

  183

  “Just going to ask the boss if there was anything else for me to

  do. It’s my night off, but I just wanted to ask him.”

  Andy was sure Massino wouldn’t be able to control himself if he

  saw Sammy. Andy had tapped Sammy’s telephone and the

  conversation between Sammy and Johnny was on tape and Massino

  has listened to it.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You push off. Mr. Joe’s busy right now.”

  Sammy nodded and got back into the elevator. Andy crossed to

  Massino’s office, entered and closed the door.

  Massino was at his desk. Leaning against the walls were Toni,

  Ernie, Lu Berilli and Benno. On Massino’s desk lay a .22 target rifle

  equipped with powerful telescopic sight and a silencer.

  “Sammy’s going home,” Andy said and went to the window.

  “Toni, get the rifle and come here.”

  Puzzled, Toni looked at Massino who nodded. Toni picked up the

  rifle and followed Andy to the open window. Andy pulled up a

  straight-backed chair.

  “Sit down. Look across the street. Look at the entrance to the

  bus station.”

  Toni did as he was told.

  “Now look through the telescopic sight,” Andy went on. “Focus

  on anyone.”

  Looking through the powerful sight, Toni was startled. A taxi

  driver, lolling against his cab and enjoying the sunshine came into

  focus and Toni felt he could reach out and touch his head.

  “Man!” he muttered. “Some sight!”

  “Keep watching. You’ll see Sammy in a moment. I want you to

  get him in focus.”

  Massino shoved back his chair and joined them at the window.

  They watched Sammy cross the street and pause to look around: His

  movements were furtive.

  “Got him?”

  “Sure. I can see the sweat on his mug,” Toni said.

  They watched Sammy edge into the bus station and disappear.

  They waited. After a few minutes, Sammy came out, again looked

  furtively around and then walked away.

  “Could you have killed him?” Andy asked as Toni lowered the

  rifle.

  “With this beauty? Sure! A kid of six could have knocked him

  off.”

  Andy looked at Massino.

  “Maybe I’d better handle this, Mr. Joe. Maybe it would be better

  if you were out of town.”

  Massino thought, then nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  Looking at the other men, Andy said, “So let’s get this operation

  set up. Sooner or later, Bianda will show.” He turned to Toni. “You

  and me are going to sit at this window until he shows. When he does,

  you blow his head off.”

  Toni drew in a sigh of relief. He had been scared he might have

  to face Johnny in a gun fight, but now he knew he had only to sit at

  the window with a target rifle, he felt he could afford a grin.

  “That’ll be a pleasure,” he said.

  “You others stay out of sight downstairs. When Toni hits this

  bastard, you chase across the street, grab the two bags and come

  back here. It’s got to be done fast. I’ve fixed it the cops will be out of

  the way, but not for long, so work fast.” He turned to Massino, “You

  like it, Mr. Joe?”

  “Yeah. You’re using your head. So okay, I’ll take a week off in

  Miami.” He stared at Andy. “When I get back, I expect the money in

  the safe and those three straightened out.”

  “That’s my planning, Mr. Joe.”

  “When you have the money, I want Sammy taken care of,”

  Massino said to Benno. “Take Ernie with you and smear that

  sonofabitch across a wall. I mean that. Smash him to bits! Take a can

  of gas with you. When you’ve finished smeari
ng him, set him on

  fire.”

  185

  Benno grinned.

  “Okay, boss.”

  Massino turned to Toni.

  “There’s the whore. You’re the only one who’s seen her. Take

  care of her. She’ll run, but keep after her. Make her suffer. You don’t

  work for me until you’ve found and fixed her, but you’ll get paid.”

  Toni nodded.

  “That’ll be another pleasure.”

  When Massino had left the office, Andy said, “Okay, we can

  relax. Sammy gets a call from Bianda in another hour. In an hour’s

  time, Bianda could try for the money. We have to get this organized.

  Bianda may be cagey. He might wait a week . . . so, okay, we wait a

  week, but any minute of that week, he could show . . . so we wait.”

  Waiting meant nothing to these men. They spent a third of their

  lives waiting.

  Andy tapped Toni on his shoulder.

  “When he shows, you have to nail him. Fluff this one and you get

  the treatment.”

  Toni patted the target rifle. “A kid of six . . .”

  The big, airy room with its double bed, its two armchairs and its

  T.V. set seemed to have shrunk. The traffic sounds coming through

  the open window seemed to have increased. Tension hung in the

  room like a black canopy.

  In bra and panties, Freda lay on the bed, her arm across her eyes.

  Johnny sat by the telephone, his eyes on his strap watch.

  “Can’t you call him now?” Freda asked, lifting her arm to look at

  Johnny. “For God’s sake! We’ve been waiting hours!”

  “I warned you, baby,” Johnny said gently, “this is a waiting

  game.” Sweat was trickling down his face. “It’s only five to five.”

  “I’ll go crazy if we have to wait much longer. All my goddamn life,

  I’ve had to wait for something!”

  “Who hasn’t?” Johnny wiped his face with his handkerchief.

  “Everyone is waiting for something. Take it easy, baby. Think of the

  boat, the sea, the sun and you and me. Think of that.”

  Her arm went back across her eyes.

  “Sorry, Johnny. I’m on edge.”

  On edge? Johnny suppressed a sigh. He looked at her, lying

  there, so desirable and to him, beautiful. On edge? He felt now the

  chill of fear. In spite of his warnings, she didn’t seem to realize what

  kind of jungle they were heading for.

  They waited, listening to the traffic, hearing a police whistle and

  in the distance, an ambulance siren. The tension in the room built up.

  The minute hand of Johnny’s watch crawled on. Could a minute last

  so long?

  “Johnny!” Freda sat up. “Please call him now.”

  “Okay, baby.”

  He picked up the receiver and dialled Sammy’s number.

  Listening to the burr-burr-burr on the line, he thought of the

  moment when he unlocked the locker and pulled the two heavy bags

  out and he closed his eyes. All that money!.

  Then Sammy’s voice came on the line.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Sammy? Johnny. You checked the bus station?”

  “I checked it, Mr. Johnny. There’s no one there.”

  Johnny leaned forward, his heart beginning to thump.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. I went all over it. The boys have gone.”

  “Where’s Toni?” Johnny knew Capello was the danger man.

  “I don’t reckon he’s back yet, Mr. Johnny. The boss sent him to

  Florida. I haven’t seen him.”

  “Okay.” Johnny thought for a moment. The way south and out of

  town would take him past Sammy’s place. “Around midnight, I’ll look

  in with the money. Be there.”

  187

  “Six thousand, Mr. Johnny?”

  “That’s it. Be there,” and Johnny hung up. He looked at Freda

  who had got off the bed and was watching him. “It’s okay. They

  really think we’re in Havana. We’ll leave here at seven-thirty. Let’s

  pack. I’ll fix a Hertz car.”

  “You really mean it’s safe . . . you’ll get the money?”

  Johnny put his fingers into his shirt to feel his St. Christopher

  medal: it was a reflex action, but when his fingers felt nothing but

  the sweat-coated hairs of his chest, he again heard his mother’s

  words: aslongasyouwearit nothingreallybad canhappen toyou.

  “We’re going to try, baby. Nothing in this life is safe, but we’re

  going to try.”

  He picked up the phone book, found the number of Hertz-rent-a-

  car and called them. They said they would deliver a car to the hotel

  at 19.00.

  Freda pulled on her green trouser suit and she was doing her hair

  as Johnny hung up.

  “The car’s fixed,” he said, then going to his suitcase, he took out

  his gun and harness.

  Watching him, her eyes opened wide.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just being careful, baby.” He smiled at her. “I don’t think we’ll

  need it, but one never knows.”

  “You’re frightening me, Johnny.”

  “Go on packing. This isn’t the time to be frightened . . . this is the

  time to look ahead . . . to the future. This time tomorrow, you and

  me will be worth one hundred and eighty-six thousand dollars!”

  “Yes.”

  While she was carefully folding her new clothes into the suitcase,

  Johnny looked out of the window at the blue sky and the white

  clouds. His fingers went to his shirt, then dropped away.

  He saw the little plop of water as the medal had hit the lake. He

  knew he could be walking into a trap. Sammy might be betraying

  him. He knew that, but what else was there to live for? If he didn’t

  try to get the money, sooner or later, they would find him. So he had

  to try. He just might be lucky. He just might have the boat for a few

  months, but this he was sure of . . . they would never take him alive.

  He looked over at Freda as she shut the lid of the suitcase. She and

  he, he decided, must share this destiny. They could have luck. Again

  he thought of the boat. He thought of the medal. That was

  superstition. There was still luck left.

  In less than four hours, he would know if luck meant anything.

  The hours crawled by. The lights over the bus station were on.

  The crowds were thinning out. The big clock above the bus station

  read 23.00.

  “I’ve got to take a pee,” Toni said. “My back teeth are floating.”

  “Hurry it up!” Andy snapped and eased his aching muscles.

  Toni put down the target rifle and went fast to Massino’s toilet.

  As he laid down the rifle, Johnny drove into the parking lot of the

  bus station.

  “Here we are baby,” he said, his heart thumping. “You take over.

  Now listen, if anything bad happens, drive away fast. You

  understand? Don’t wait . . . just go.” He took from his hip pocket the

  last of Sammy’s money and dropped the bills in her lap. “It’ll be all

  right, but I want to be sure. Go back to the Welcome hotel. You

  understand?”

  Freda shivered.

  “Yes . . . It will be all right, Johnny?”

  He put his hand on hers.

  “Don’t be scared. I’ll get the money and come right
back. You

  take off as soon as I’m in. Head up street. It’s easy. At the traffic

  lights you turn left. Don’t drive too fast.”

  “Oh, Johnny!”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her.

  “It’s going to work out.”

  “I love you.”

  189

  “Those are the best words. I love you too,” then he walked into

  the bright lights and towards the luggage lockers.

  Andy spotted him. He wasn’t fooled by his shaven head. He

  recognized Johnny’s walk, his square shoulders, his short, thick-set

  body.

  “Toni!!”

  Freda shifted across the seat and under the steering wheel. She

  stared through the dusty windshield, seeing Johnny disappear into

  the station. She sensed he and she were in danger. Her mind raced.

  Could she live on a boat? She hated the sea. Maybe once they had all

  this money, she could persuade him to give up this boat idea. Her

  dream was a luxury villa somewhere in the sun and to meet

  interesting people. With all that money, people would converge on

  them. There would be a swimming pool, a Cadillac and servants.

  Once a year they would go to Paris where she would buy clothes.

  That would be life! A boat! Who the hell but Johnny wanted a boat!

  Her fingers gripped the steering wheel.

  There was time . . . first the money. If he really loved her she

  could talk him out of this stupid idea of buying a boat.

  Johnny reached the locker. He paused, looking right and left. The

  locker aisle was deserted. A voice boomed over the tannoy system:

  “Last bus for Miami. No. 15.” He sank the key into the lock, opened

  the door and dragged out the two heavy bags.

  As he dumped them on the floor, his mind moved triumphantly

  to his dream: A forty-five-footer with shining brass work and he at

  the helm, steering out to sea with the spray against his face and the

  sun beating down on him. And in this image which flooded his mind,

  Freda took no part. It was he and the forty-five-footer and the rise

  and fall of the deck.

  He grabbed up the bags and started back across the station

  towards where be had parked the car. He was still moving fast,

  within a few yards of the car, seeing Freda at the wheel, when his life

  exploded into darkness.

  Freda saw him coming and she caught her breath in a gasp of

  relief. Then she saw a tiny red spot appear in his shaven head, the

  bags drop from his hands and his short, thick-set body fold to the

 

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